Postpartum
by L'Autre Femme Fatale
Summary: Oliver returns from his self-imposed exile to discover that his mother has given birth while in prison. As he readjusts to his life as a hero, he also seeks to obtain custody of his new baby sister.
1. Chapter 1

_Moira's water broke on a Monday. She knew this primarily because it was the one day a week she was permitted to go outside, a small enclosed garden that measured 10' x 3.5'. It was suffocating, and she could only walk 6-7 paces in either direction. But it was better than nothing._

_She'd discovered she was pregnant in January, right in the middle of Thea's court case. The nausea and headaches she had dismissed as the byproducts of stress, but when her stomach began to swell, she could no longer cling to denial. _

_She was 48 years old, her husband was being held captive God only knew where, and she was forced to witness her children's lives unraveling at the seams. _

_Miraculously, it seemed, she had been able to conceal her pregnancy until the end ― until she confessed of her sins and was incarcerated. To the best of her knowledge, even Walter was not aware of her condition. The divorce was finalized in May, a week after the Glades' salvation. By then, Moira estimated, she was in her final month of gestation._

_And then, on Monday, June 24__th__, at 8:43 in the morning, it ended. With a rush of blood and water, Moira sank to her knees, pressing her hands together as if in prayer. _

_"Help!" she shouted, desperate and afraid. "Help me! I am going into labour . . . for God's sake, help me!"_

_Her cries brought the guard running, a man perhaps younger than her son, his blue eyes wide with terror. "Hold on Mrs. Queen!" he yelped, taking hold of her wrists in his own trembling fists. "The ambulance is on its way. You're gonna be alright!" Moira laughed, and smiled in spite of the pain, blinking back tears. _

_"Alright? I will be alright when this child is out of me; I will be 'alright' when I am released from this hell, and reunited with my children. Thank you for your help, son, but if that ambulance is not here in the next 30 seconds, I'm afraid it is too late for me."_

"_No! Just hang on; they'll be here any minute! Mrs. Queen? MRS. QUEEN!"_

_. . . . ._

* * *

Thea was awakened by the trilling yodels of Adam Levine at 9:30 that same morning. She woke with a groan, grabbing her cell as quickly as she could, jabbing the talk button with a recently manicured nail. "What!"

"Um, Miss Queen? Is this Miss Thea Queen?"

"Yeah, it is. Who're you? What do you want?"

"My name is Tad Hunter, a guard up at Ironhide?"

"Okay . . . so what's up? How did you get this number?"

"Your phone number was listed in your mother's file. I don't know how to tell you this, Miss Queen, but your mother is —"

Tad's voice abruptly cut off. Thea stared at the phone in her hand, her jaw dropping and growing suddenly furious. "My mother is _what?_ What's happened to my mother?!"

Another voice came on, female and robotic, with an English accent:

"Hello, Miss Queen? I am sorry to have to tell you this, but your mother has been admitted to Starling General."

"_What?_ What happened to her?"

"I am sorry, Miss Queen, but I am not at liberty to disclose that information to you. . ."

"You're shitting me, right? I'm her daughter, for Christ's sake!"

"No ma'am, I apologize. I really cannot tell you any more at the present."

"If you can't tell me anything, then why the fuck did you call me?"

"With all due respect Miss, I am not the one who called you. Goodbye now."

"Wait, hold on a goddamn ―"

Her only response was a _click!_ and a dial tone. "What the fuck!" Thea reared her arm back and sent her cell phone flying. It crashed loudly into the wall, leaving a dent in the wood paneling. Her action woke Roy, who scrambled up in the bed with a start, clutching her close to him. His blue eyes were like saucers, his grip on her a vise. Thea knew without a doubt that his fingers had left their mark, probably bruising her arm.

"Ouch! I know I said I like it rough, Roy, but this isn't exactly what I meant."

"Sorry." Roy released his hold on Thea, shifting his gaze to the dent on the wall, the smashed remnants of her cell phone on the floor beneath it. "What's that about?" he wasn't angry, just curious.

"Get this: a guard up at the prison calls and starts to tell me something, then some random bitch takes the phone from him and is like 'Miss Queen? Your mother is in the hospital . . .' she says all that, but then she won't tell me the reason!" Thea scowled, biting her lower lip until she drew blood.

"Hey," Roy cupped her cheek in his hand, pressing his lips against hers in a soft kiss. "There's plenty of reasons to be mad – heck, I'm pretty pissed too – but what is that going to accomplish?"

"Nothing, I guess. I'm not stupid, Roy. So now I guess there's only one thing left to do. Wanna give me a ride to Starling General?"

"You don't even have to ask, Babe."

_. . . . ._

* * *

Even though it was the first week of summer, Laurel felt a cold chill as she walked the stone path of Saint John Episcopal Cemetery. She buried her hands in the pockets of her black trench jacket, bracing herself as she continued on her way.

It had been nearly six weeks ― it was high time for her to pay her respects. Within a few minutes, she came upon the colossal white marble cross, a sorrowful stone angel leering at her from under its halo.

"Jesus," she whispered, her breath hitching on a sob. She covered her face with her hands, gathering her nerve, and looked up again. The gravestone was beautiful, morbid as it seemed, and Laurel thought the angel was a nice touch. Looking closer, she saw that its eyes were not leering at her at all; indeed, they were cast down toward the ground, dark trails in the stone from rain resembling tears.

She knelt down in front of the stone, her eyes scanning the epitaph:

THOMAS JAMES MERLYN

FEBRUARY 9, 1985 — MAY 15, 2013

BELOVED SON AND FRIEND

Beloved son, yes ― of that she had no doubt. But beloved friend? She had not seen hide or hair of Oliver since that night, and he had not attempted to contact her. Of course, after what he had told her, she was ambivalent.

The crushing anguish in her heart after his first "death" had not repeated. With that, she doubted that Oliver was dead. No, she was almost certain that he had simply run away, too afraid to face her. She had vaguely heard something through the grapevine about skiing in the Alps. She would not put it past him.

"Hi Tommy," she croaked, her voice breaking. "It's me. I'm sorry I haven't come by till now. I hope you haven't been lonely . . ." Laurel took a deep, shuddering breath, hunching her shoulders. "It should have been me, instead of you. Why did you come back for me? If you hadn't, you would still be here. Do you realize how unfair that is?"

_Unfair?_ She could almost hear Tommy's voice; see his bitter smirk, the hollow dullness in his eyes. _I'm the one lying underground, my skin slowly rotting away to a bag of bones. I'm a goddamn all-you-can-eat buffet for worms and maggots!_

She began to wail then, leaning forward over her knees, bowing in supplication.

"I'm sorry, Tommy! I don't know what else I can say. I know I screwed up. I know that, and I know there's no way to fix it this time. I loved you . . . I love you." She clenched her eyes shut. It was not until she felt her cell phone vibrating against her pant pocket that she broke out of her trance.

Reluctantly, she pulled out her phone, uttering a soft curse when she saw the caller I. D. She took a deep breath, hoping her voice was steady as she answered.

"Hey Thea, what's up?"

"Laurel, thank God! I hope I wasn't interrupting, but I really, **really **need your help."

"Yes, of course. What's wrong?"

"I got a call this morning. My mom's been admitted to Starling General, and I can't get anybody to tell me anything. Roy and I have been sitting here in the waiting room for hours, and we can't get anything from them, except that she's here. What the hell is these people's problem?"

Laurel frowned, her brows furrowing with worry. "Oh no, I hope she is alright! Usually the hospital tells immediate family members what the situation is. Policies have changed a lot in the last year, though. Now your mother has to sign a waiver, permitting the hospital to release any of her medical information, even to you and Oliver. Do you remember her ever signing a paper like that?"

"Damned if I know! Do you know how many papers my mother signs every day?"

"Right, I guess that was a stupid question. Hold on, I'll be there as soon as I can. Try to be patient, okay?"

"Ugh, whatever, looks like I don't have a choice. I'm sorry for snapping at you, I'm a little stressed out. Promise me you'll come straight here?"

"Yes, Thea, where else am I gonna go? I'll be there in 10 minutes."

"Thanks Laurel. I owe you one!"

_. . . . ._

* * *

After a few hours, Moira stumbled into groggy consciousness. For a long moment, she wondered if she were dead, her bleary eyes flooded with blank, sterile white. She blinked rapidly, until the white came into focus.

The ceiling in a hospital room, she deduced, further reinforced by the beeping of a heart monitor and the sudden needling pain in her wrist from her I. V. drip.

She moaned and tried to sit up, her movement halted by a sudden intense pain in her abdomen that left her breathless. Moira cringed and sank back down, her sweaty hair fanning out against the pillow. Suddenly, a nurse appeared, taking hold of her hand. The starched latex glove was abrasive against her skin.

Moira gently slipped her hand out of the woman's grasp, giving her what she hoped was a moderately friendly smile. The nurse smiled back, the skin around her eyes wrinkling as she did. "Welcome back, Mrs. Queen!" she said, practically bellowing. "You had us worried there for a while."

"I'm alright? Oh, thank God! Where is my baby? I want to see my baby."

The nurse beamed at her, stifling a chortle as she exited the room. Momentarily, she returned, pushing the door open, wheeling in the incubator. "Mrs. Queen, it's my privilege to tell you, you've given birth to a healthy baby girl! She weighs 6 lbs, 8 oz, and she's 15 inches long."

The nurse pushed the incubator beside the bed, smiling as Moira's eyes widened. "I'm gonna leave you to get acquainted. Just push the button if you need me, sugar."

Gently, the nurse picked the baby up, carefully placing her in the crook of Moira's arms. She turned to leave, and Moira spent several long minutes simply staring at the newborn, her heart welling with love.

Her daughter was beautiful. Moira's heart skipped a beat as her baby's eyes fluttered open, regarding her calmly and regally. Her eyes were a deep dark brown, almost black, and Moira felt a slight shudder pass through her as her baby looked at her through Walter's eyes.

Her skin had a pale olive tone, but Moira knew that her skin would likely darken over time. One thing she actually remembered reading about was that at birth, a baby's skin is light because its body has not produced enough melanin.

Her baby suddenly sneezed, and was so startled that she began to cry. "Oh no," Moira crooned and held her baby close, nuzzling her cheeks and forehead. "Don't cry, sweetheart, I'm here. Mommy's here . . ."


	2. Chapter 2

That day, Moira was able to spend four blissful, uninterrupted hours with her newborn daughter. At 3:00 that afternoon, the kindly nurse returned to her room, along with a short, sour-looking woman about Moira's age, with stringy mousy brown hair, a frown seemingly etched permanently on her face.

She introduced herself as Myrna Hawking, the office administrator, and unceremoniously gave Moira a single sheet of paper, holding it between two fingers as if it were something unpleasant. Moira accepted the sheet, scanning the form with a critical eye:

**AUTHORIZATION TO RELEASE PATIENT INFORMATION**

**I, _, hereby authorize _ to disclose information and health records to _. I hereby consent and give my full approval to the release of my health information. . .**

There was more, but Moira skimmed over it, having seen numerous forms like it before. Still, she felt a strong sense of apprehension, and her hand began to shake. The nurse noted her Moira's discomfort, and reached out a hand to steady hers. "Don't worry none, sugar. This here's just so we can disclose your information to your loved ones. We gotta have your express permission before we can tell them anything."

"Them?"

"Yes ma'am, your daughter's been here all day! She's awfully worried about you. Keeps asking after you, but unfortunately we can't tell her anything just yet. You sign that paper, and we'll have her in here in a few minutes."

"Is that so? Well, then." The nurse offered her a pen, and Moira accepted, meticulously scrawling her signature in formal, calligraphic letters. She did the same with the name of the hospital, and for Thea's name. After the end of the first sentence, she added: **Oliver Queen **and **Dinah Laurel Lance**.

She paused, tapping the pen against her chin for a moment, considering. Who else should she add? It was not as if she could keep news of her labor a delivery a secret forever. HIPAA protocol or not, it was only a matter of time before some paparazzo bribed a hospital employee, and then the entire city ― the entire country — would know what had happened.

She sighed heavily in resignation, and added one more name to the list:

**Walter Steele.**

**. . . . .**

* * *

Thea glanced at her watch for what seemed like the 25th time in as many minutes. 3:27. She tried to calculate how long it had been since the administrator woman had been sent upstairs with the patient privacy form. It was taking _forever_.

"Jeez," she muttered, leaning her head sullenly against Roy's shoulder. "How much freaking longer is this gonna take? Do you think we ought to go out to eat while we wait? I'm kind of in the mood for Chinese." Roy snorted, startled awake, and frowned grumpily. "What is it? Is it time to go see your mom yet?"

"God Roy, pay attention! I just _said_ I wonder how much longer it's going to take! We've been here all day."

"Okay, okay, sorry. I am so sorry I couldn't stay awake to hear you prattle on and on about how long we have to wait. Please, continue."

If looks could kill, the baleful glare Thea shot his way would have put Roy six feet underground. She did not speak, but crossed her arms over her chest, clenching her eyes shut. She began to sob quietly, her shoulders quaking against Roy's side.

"Thea?" Roy stood up, kneeling down in front of Thea's chair. He took hold of her shoulders, leaning his head against her stomach. "I'm sorry, Babe. I know you're scared, I should have known better. I have no excuses, I was tired and cranky, and I was an absolute asshole. Forgive me?" He punctuated the sentiment with a kiss, pressing his lips against Thea's stomach through the thin cotton of her tank top. He felt Thea take hold of his head, twining her fingers through his scalp. She leaned down, kissing the top of his head.

"No, I'm the one who should be sorry. You're right, though, I am scared – pretty much scared shitless. My mom could be dying for all I know, and there's nothing I can do about it! I hate being powerless."

"It's alright. I know what it's like to worry for a parent."

"Oh no, please don't go comparing Mom to your dad! That's the last thing I need to hear. It's not the same; it can't be! Mom is going to live, she has to, because ―"

"Because she's a Queen, and she can afford the best. These doctors are going to do everything in their power to save her life. Do you honestly think they would even give someone like my dad a second glance?"

"What are you saying?"

"Don't play dumb, Thea. You know exactly what I'm saying. Money talks, and when it comes right down to it, your mom is going to live because she has a smorgasbord. Do you know, I wouldn't be able to even afford the copayment here? They would send me back out on the streets, and I would die like a rat. Don't look so hurt, you know it's the truth."

Thea opened her mouth to answer, but her attention shifted when she noticed Laurel walking toward them, her face an expression of pure astonishment. Immediately Thea stood up, knocking Roy back on his butt, and ran to meet Laurel in the middle of the waiting room floor.

"Oh my God: finally! What's up with Mom? Is she alright?"

Laurel blinked slowly, focusing her attention on the frantic young woman in front of her. "Thea... I don't know how to tell you this."

"Tell me _what_? What is wrong with my mother, Laurel?"

"I'm not even sure how to tell you. It might be easier for you to go up and see for yourself."

"Okay, whatever . . . just one problem: what room is she in?" Thea crossed her arms over her chest and frowned, impatiently tapping the heel of her Jimmy Choo against the scuffed white floor. Laurel sighed, taking hold of Thea by the shoulders to still her. "I'll tell you where she is, but you have to promise me that whatever you find, you have to keep your cool. Do you hear me?"

"Yeah yeah, whatever — can I _go_ now?"

"No one is stopping you. Oh, but Thea, I think I should go with you."

"What? Why?"

"That's because your mom signed a release form allowing the Hospital to disclose her medical information to you, Oliver, Walter, and me. So sorry to say it, but your boyfriend will have to stay down here."

"I don't believe this! Are you hearing this, Roy?" Thea spun around to find Roy still sitting on the floor, staring at her in angry disbelief.

"You wanna know what I can't believe? Why I even bothered spending the whole damn day here in the first place! Look Thea, I know you're worried about your mom, but you've been treating me like shit lately, and it's not just today. I think I need a little time to myself, you know? I'm gonna split, but call me later and let me know what's going on, okay?"

Before she could protest, before she could make a move toward him, Roy shrugged his shoulders and sauntered away, exiting the hospital through the sliding-glass entrance doors.

Thea sniffed, holding back her tears, and started walking toward the elevator. She moved with anger and determination, looking back at Laurel when she reached the elevator door. She pushed the button, summoning a lift to the higher floors, and shot Laurel a bitter smirk.

"Are you coming or not?"

**. . . . .**

* * *

Walter had just gotten through delivering a particularly boring quarterly financial report when he was approached by Melanie, a bright-eyed, perky young blonde in her mid-twenties — a new recruit, and the second secretary he'd hired in the past month since assuming the role of CFO for Starling National Bank.

The Bank went through so much paperwork every day that they required the assistance of at least two administrative assistants at a time. The young woman smiled at him as if he were Santa Clause, quietly murmuring under her breath that he had a call on Line 3.

"Thank you, Melanie. I will take the call in my office." His tone was curt and brisk, but polite. It conveyed just enough force in it that Melanie knew that her presence was no longer needed; her mission had been a success. She smiled again and retreated, clasping her hands together at the waist. Walter followed after her, maintaining a moderate distance between them.

Even only a month after filing for divorce from Moira, Walter was closely scrutinized by his coworkers, and by the wealthy elite of Starling City society. Everyone wanted him to be caught with his pants down, so to speak. Since the divorce, and his relocation into his own apartment in the city center, the paparazzi had swarmed around him like flies around shit.

He had no doubt that this phone call would be another journalist or reporter, begging him for a statement about his 'split' from Moira. He'd received dozens of such calls in as many days, and had just about decided to stop taking outside calls altogether. He closed and locked the door behind him, taking his seat at his massive mahogany desk.

He picked up the handle with some reluctance, clearing his throat before pressing the button to connect him with the caller. "Hello, this is Walter Steele. How may I be of assistance?"

"Hello Mr. Steele! This is Josh Gupta, with _The Starling City Sentinel_? I was wondering if I could get your statement on the current situation."

"I am sorry, sir, but if you are referring to the pending termination of my marriage ―"

"Oh no, Mr. Steele, that's not it at all! I wanted to know what you have to say about your soon to be ex-wife giving birth to your first child while behind bars?"

"Excuse me, what did you say?"

"Good Lord! You haven't heard the news yet yourself? I'm sorry!" Josh Gupta tittered, though he did not sound sorry at all. "Never mind all that," Walter managed, swallowing a rising lump of bile. "Please tell me what you know."

"Oh Christ, Mr. Steele, I can't believe this! Moira Queen was admitted to Starling General Hospital early this morning, and she delivered a baby girl around 11:00. It was a very easy labor, or so I am told. Now, do you have anything you would like to say on the matter . . .?" Josh Gupta's voice lilted hopefully at the end of the question, but Walter simply hung up on him.

"My God!" he shouted, loud enough to be heard by all of his colleagues on the same floor. Tellers and secretaries came out of their offices, not bothering to hide their curiosity, standing in the hall as Walter raved on. "I cannot believe that woman! What in heaven's name was she thinking, keeping something like this from me? I will not be made a fool of, _I will not_!"

His emotive display was completely uncharacteristic, so unlike his usual cool reserve that his underlings wondered if he had suddenly taken leave of his senses. Walter stood up and left his office, slamming the door behind him.

Without a word to any of his coworkers, Walter exited the Bank through the rotating glass doors, and hailed a cab to take him to the hospital.

**. . . . .**

* * *

Thea stormed into Room 213 B, so abruptly that the nurse started, dropping the tray of food she had brought from the cafeteria. The crash was painfully loud, and the baby woke up, howling like a rabid animal.

"Oh my!" The nurse hastily picked up the tray, swiping up any spills with a wad of napkins she took out of her scrubs pocket. She slipped past Thea as quickly as she could, the stunned teenager staring at the baby as if she were an alien species. Moira tried in vain to soothe her, patting her back, swaying her upper body side to side to rock her.

Laurel was right behind Thea then, and she reached out a tentative hand to place on her shoulder. "Thea," she began, "I didn't know how to tell you, and you ran off so fast —"

Thea snorted, covering her face with her hands, her body seized by laughter. Laurel stared in horror as Thea slowly sank to the ground, tears welling up in her eyes. "Wow," she managed to stammer between laughs. "Just _wow_."

Thea shook her head madly, like a dog shaking off drops of water. She stood abruptly, covering the distance between herself and her mother's bedside, slumping down in the hideous brown pleather recliner. Moira glanced at her worriedly, but kept rocking the baby until she finally calmed down, her eyes fluttering closed as she fell asleep.

"So," Moira started awkwardly. "I think there's something I need to talk to you about."

"No _shit_," Thea muttered. She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting.

Moira ignored her daughter's bitter sarcasm, and proceeded:

"I know you are angry with me. I know that you probably think I intentionally lied to you, but you must understand. I thought I was doing what was best at the time."

"How, though? How the _hell_ can you sit there and tell me that? What did you think would happen? Did you think you would be able to hide away forever, and no one would ever find out about this? Does Oliver know ― does Walter?" Thea didn't bother to try to hide the venom in her tone. "How did you _not_ intentionally lie to me? Hiding a pregnancy for nine months, never telling a soul, I'd say that counts as lying!"

"Yes, darling, you're right of course. But what would you have me do? You were on a downward spiral the night I found out, and I didn't want to make things even harder for you."

"How would that have made things harder for me? It seems like it would have been a good motivator to change, if you ask me. But no, that's the point: you _didn't_."

"Thea Dearden Queen! That is _enough_. I don't blame you for being angry at me, but I am your mother, and I expect you to show me at least a modicum of respect."

"Really! Since when do you expect anything from me?"

"Thea, I mean it, that's enough!"

"Too bad, 'cause I'm just getting started! I have a few questions, and you owe me answers! Number one: how are you going to be a mother to this child when you're behind bars? A fine example to show for your daughter, by the way!"

"I . . . I don't know. I hadn't thought about that."

"Great job you're doing so far, then. I hope to God you don't expect _me_ to play babysitter!"

Laurel stepped forward, the corners of her mouth turned down in an angry frown. "Thea, you're not being fair," she said softly. "Moira knows good and well that she won't be able to raise this child within a prison. And I'm sorry to have to tell you, but you would not be able to look after her, even if you wanted to; your substance abuse record pretty much discounts you."

"Alright, great: I don't want the little brat anyway!" Thea's shout woke the baby again, and she began to cry. Thea could not hold back her tears any longer and cried with her, biting down on her lip so viciously that she drew blood. She stood up forcefully, turning to run out of the room – and collided with Walter as he was coming in the door.

**. . . . .**

* * *

**STATE OF CALIFORNIA CERTIFICATE OF LIVE BIRTH**

**Full Name**: Farrah Lenora Steele

**DOB**: June 24, 2013

**Birth Weight**: 6 lbs, 8 oz

**Full Name of Father**: Walter Colin Steele

**Full Maiden Name of Mother**: Moira Anne Dearden

**Sex**: Female

**County of Birth**: Starling

**Delivered by**: _James Smythe, MD_

* * *

_**Author's**_** Note:** I would like to thank all of my readers and reviewers. I got this little plot idea as I was devouring the first season of Arrow on Netflix, and it just would not go away. I originally had a different plan for who would be the child's guardian, but after last night's episode, I am very upset and disappointed . . . T.T

About the baby's name - 'Farrah' means something close to 'happiness,' and Lenora means 'shining light.' After all of the crap that everyone's been through, and the stuff they're going through now, I want them to have one little ray of light and hope! :'-(

Coming up: Oliver comes back to the city and finds out about Farrah's existence.

Also, what do you all think - is the story progressing too quickly, too slowly? Would you like a little less dialogue and a little more exposition? Please let me know what you think!

Thanks guys :D

-Snow Ice Queen


End file.
